On the sweaty summer days of August
you were late and fragrant
a savior from ogling eyes
and cantankering 7 trains
that race like thoughts
there when you don’t need them and gone when you do
Smiling, a thought without a thinker
You turned me on to Buddhist thought

Remember this…
moments that seemed to slip between our nervous fingers
Remember these things
memories of good things, not yet bad things
and buddhist-tantric-in the moment forever things
Bearing gifts of guayaba pasteles and a smile that says “I’m sorry”
You turned me on to the end of the world
Renewing tragedy in eyes
that believed in daisies from concrete
believed in the softness of babies’ feet
Epiphanies on what it meant to singI want to hold your hand

When we slipped barefoot on slugs
and slapped flies off my thighs
Back in Claire’s garden with azaleas and cat piss
you illuminated with citronella candles
and tasted like clove cigarettes
As the summer sang right off our backs

You called me Summerland, your garden of Eden
Maybe you weren’t Adam but Eve
And you thought they sold five dollar bottles of peace
frankincense and myrrh on the F train
express-ing regret–always regret
And I thought you were the savior
Cassandra, like an oracle read salty jig-saw puzzle palms and said that you were poison

Remember the days of cloud watching
and rush-hour grime surfing
The day you showed me where it hurt
and I slept in your bed clad like a banana
in your yellow gym shorts
The day you said “Marry me”
the Islam way

The day I lost hope
I searched for it in the corners of your laugh when I spilled sprite the wrong way
the corners of crusted train cars
Searched for it in the scroll you wrote on Macys receipt paper
Couldn’t find it in dragon clouds
or the backseat of my father’s car
where you hated to love me
I drove it to the gardens but couldn’t find it in the hills
Searched for it in the smile lines of mi suegra
over burritos you’d love

You said I smelled like angels oughto smell
and entered me before asking